Young Ambition's Ladder
by quiet-compassion
Summary: What made him suggest that they share a drink after making their rounds? What had possessed her to agree? Looking back later on, she always felt as if some outside force had been behind it, thrusting them together to put some cosmic plan into motion. "You never know. War is on the horizon. The tyrants may not be around forever."


How it had come about, she had no idea.

There had been no buildup, no slow tentative transformation from adversaries to friends. They were not friends by any stretch of the imagination. They were spontaneous and, likely, temporary confidants at best.

What made him suggest that they share a drink after making their rounds? What had possessed her to agree? Looking back later on, she always felt as if some outside force had been behind it, thrusting them together to put some cosmic plan into motion.

Ridiculous, of course, given the argument that had started it all.

All she knew was that she was sitting in an empty classroom, well past curfew, drinking stolen firewhiskey with Draco Malfoy.

"It's a frivolous and undependable subject. Why it's included in the school curriculum I'll never understand."

"Careful, Granger," Malfoy tsked. "That almost sounded like a critique of our Headmaster's judgment."

She sent him a cold glare but continued on nevertheless. "You can't honestly be defending Divination as a magical art form! It's all guesswork and facade."

"How do you explain the prophecies that do come to pass? Coincidence? Luck?" he challenged. "And what about Hall of Prophecies in the Department of Mysteries? The Ministry obviously thinks there's something to be studied in Divination."

She snorted. The Ministry was not exactly a paragon of sound judgment.

"I would push back that prophecies of such sort are self-fulfilling," Hermione replied, taking another sip from her glass. "One has a prophecy made about them and they go out of their way to either achieve it or avoid it. Ultimately they end up setting a series of events into action which leads to the 'foreseen' result."

Malfoy appraised her silently for a moment, his finger circling the rim of his glass. When he spoke, he sounded rather amused. "Well, that's too bad. I rather like the idea that there's some higher plan. It's somehow comforting, especially in light of the current political situation."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at that. True, Voldemort's return and continued rise had struck fear into most people, but she hardly thought Malfoy shared these concerns. His family's past loyalties and current involvement were no secret. She'd fought Lucius in the Department of Mysteries only a few months ago. Somehow, she doubted Draco sat up at night worrying about Death Eaters banging down his door.

"I think it's the powerlessness I despise the most," he went on. "Being under someone else's thumb, following orders, being at their beck and call."

Through all of this his eyes never left hers and she watched him cautiously, wondering if he was implying what she thought he was implying. As if to clarify the matter, he scratched his left forearm deliberately, eyes still glued to hers.

So Harry had been right. Interesting.

Refusing to show any sign of weakness or fear, she stared back at him, thinking. Why would he reveal such a secret to her so casually? She could (should) turn him in in a flash. The Ministry may not be well run, but they weren't totally helpless and these days, catching Death Eaters was their top priority. Was it a threat? A cry for help? A bluff? What was his end game?

He seemed to be waiting, challenging her to voice her questions.

So instead, she just said, "I know what you mean. I don't much like being controlled either. Autonomy is essential in my book."

"Preferable perhaps, but not always possible," he countered. "Besides, who's pulling your strings, Granger? Aren't your lot all valiant and willing soldiers for the Light?"

He sneered, but the expression didn't fully reach his eyes. He was genuinely curious.

She shrugged, "I agree with the cause but I don't relish having a puppet master, regardless of the situation. And I may primarily serve as Harry's support system, but _his_ puppet master has a pretty long reach."

"Touché," Malfoy conceded, raising his glass to her. They both took another sip.

After a moment, he spoke again, clearly egging her on. "Don't you ever get tired of it though? Being the sidekick? Potter's walking library? I'm sure you've thought about how things ought to be run. I bet you think you could do it better. Don't you want to call the shots? "

She considered for a minute. Much as she was loath to admit it, he made a fair point. Of course she loved Harry, and she was happy to be able to help him in the midst of all the challenges he faced. But, she did hate not being in control. And she hated being subject to Dumbledore's oh-so-careful manipulation.

So, yes. She did get tired of it. She was frustrated that she had been slotted into the Headmaster's grand plan as an encyclopedia from whom Harry could get his answers. She resented that her other skills and talents were left seemingly ignored, un-utilized. She would never be more than the know-it-all in Dumbledore's eyes. It wounded her pride.

Rather than admit to these agitations, Hermione sighed, deflecting her irritation onto the blonde opposite her. "Isn't 'power-hungry' supposed to be your house's forte?"

In a very unMalfoy-ish action, he snorted. "Slytherin doesn't hold the monopoly on ambition, Granger," he drawled. "And deny it all you like, but I know you're fed up with being number two. I can see it in your eyes."

She huffed. "So what if I am? What do you suggest I do? Follow in your footsteps? That would simply be trading one taskmaster for another, to say nothing of the fact that someone like me would never be welcomed by your side."

Malfoy was watching her once more, calculating. Finally, he shrugged again.

"You never know. War is on the horizon. The tyrants may not be around forever." He busied himself with picking some imaginary speck off of his immaculate robes.

It was Hermione's turn to scoff. "That's your solution then? Sit around and wait for power to be handed to you?" She shook her head derisively. "Ambition should be made of sterner stuff."

"Granger, there's a full spectrum between stabbing Caesar in the Capital and sitting around doing nothing. Use your imagination and for Merlin's sake, try for a little subtly!" Malfoy looked almost eager now, leaning forward and speaking more quickly. He was dancing around something, something he desperately wanted her to pick up on. She sat silent for a few moments, considering him again. Finally, she responded to him.

"You know, Mark Antony had as much to gain from the tyrant's death as the conspirators. He used the foolhardy impulses of others and kept his own hands clean."

"And he turned the masses to his advantage. 'Lend me your ears' and all that."

"I've always preferred sharp rhetoric to sharp swords," she quipped with a smirk.

"Well, we'll need both. So Granger, we have two tyrants of our very own, each on an opposing side. It would seem to be in both of our best interests to see them fall. And, opposed as we are, we each seem uniquely suited to bring down one and then the other." He finished, eyebrows raised. His hand twitched as if he meant to reach out and shake hers but thought better of it.

"Why me?" Hermione blurted out. It's the question she'd been wanting to ask since he invited her to have a drink, since he revealed his secrets. Subtlety and vague negotiation were fine but if she was actually entertaining the idea of partnering with Malfoy for some backdoor power grab, better to be blunt.

Malfoy paled slightly and sat up straighter. He licked his lips and starred at her intently, as if trying to decide how much to say. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Look, Malfoy I'm not agreeing to anything if you refuse to-"

"Because I have been...tasked with...eliminating your puppet master." He said, voice cold and low. "I know Potter is watching me and I know how _persistent_ he can be. But you, well you can keep him preoccupied. You can belittle his suspicions. And best of all, you can offer _me_ insight as to how best strike. Why you? Because I'd rather not be Brutus, the bloody conspirator whose reign rises and falls in a snap. I recognize an opportunity when I see one."

She was surprised and, though she'd never admit it, impressed. Still, something nagged at her.

"You took a pretty big risk propositioning me like this. What if I turned you in?"

Malfoy shook his head. "The minute you agreed to be alone with me, I knew I had you. The old goody swot Granger never would have."

She glared at him and grit her teeth, wanting nothing more than to contradict him. But…he had a point. Damn him. He just stared back, grey eyes locked on hers and eyebrow raised, waiting for her to argue.

When she stayed silent, he shrugged and casually added, "And of course, I could always have obliviated you if you'd proved unhelpful." He leaned in towards her again, just barely. "So Granger, what do you say?"

"If I give you…guidance for how to take out…your target, what comes next? How will you ensure I bring down mine?"

"If- _when_ I succeed, I will be the most honored of all of his followers. He doesn't expect me too, you see. But when I do, I will be well placed to pass information, to influence his strategies. I'll work to clear a path. All you'll have to do is keep Potter alive long enough to take the shot. It is his 'destiny' after all." He rolled his eyes. "And isn't guiding Potter and Weasley in the direction you want them to go what you do best?"

She had to be insane. There was no way she was really going to agree to this.

And yet…

"Alright," she consented. "You do your part, I'll do mine. We'll crush the Serpent in his shell."

"And the Phoenix too." This time he truly did offer his hand. She shook it immediately, sealing her fate. Into what dangers would he lead her?

He drained the rest of his firewhiskey and stood, readying to leave. They had made their deal and it was time to part and enact their plans. Who knew when they would meet like this again?

"Until next time, Granger" he said, crossing to the classroom door. Hermione remained seated, thinking, considering.

"You know," she remarked before he left, "Mark Antony had a downfall of his own."

She bit her lip and he turned back around, regarding her for a long moment, as if trying to memorize everything about her.

She shivered.

"In the arms of Cleopatra" he answered finally, tearing his eyes away. "I doubt that will be an issue here."

A/N: All the thanks to my fabulous beta, tamrapraxidike.


End file.
